


Need Me

by Leloi



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Abused Sherlock, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Dark Mycroft, Drugs, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, M/M, Minor Character Death, Rimming, Sexual Slavery, Slave John, Threats, bad relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 07:22:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leloi/pseuds/Leloi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a dark AU slavery is common.  John Watson is a bed slave with nothing else to live for, paying the price for his sister's debt.  In him Mycroft Holmes finds a strong slave who can care for his emotionally and physically abused brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need Me

**Author's Note:**

> Minor Character death. Abuse, rape, drugs, slavery... a lot of sex (some nice, some not... recovery from sexual abuse). This ISN'T a very nice universe so I'm warning you now... trigger for EVERYTHING (except miscarriage and abortion... neither of those are in here). Read at your own risk! 
> 
> If you know my work, this monster is so much different than what I normally write. I apologize. I have no idea what sort of demons were lurking when I started writing this. I WANTED a nice little "John is a retired bed slave" fic and then THIS thing escaped my brain... all 15,444 words of it! (and I couldn't END it!)
> 
> Notes on the "rules" of this universe at the end.

Mycroft Holmes casually walked down the row of cages, looking in at each occupant with guarded curiosity. Smiling at the slave trader a moment he paused before one cage. “Tell me about this one.”

“This one?” The slaver looked through his files. “Born a freeman… was brought into the trade when he forfeited on his debts last year.”

“What is his skill?” Mycroft asked, barely glancing at the man in the cage.

“As a freeman he was a soldier… a doctor. His training in the trade was… bed slave.” The slaver smirked at his notes. 

“Bed slave?” Mycroft raised an eyebrow. “A little old to be a bed slave, isn’t he?”

“Some of our customers prefer the older variety.”

“But usually bed slaves are trained from puberty… not later in life. Why not house slave or labor slave?”

The slaver looked through the slave’s notes. “He couldn’t pay his debts and so he trained at the Devil’s Foot. His soldier status… several commendations of valor…” The slaver whistled at the price tag on his debt. 

“Yes, yes…” Mycroft waved the slaver’s words and regarded the man in the cage a moment. “Can I see him?”

The slaver opened the cage door and tugged on the man’s leash. “Stand up proper.”

The man stood, head bowed, eyes cast to the floor.

“How is his health?”

“Unsoiled… fresh from training. That’s why his price is still so high above his debt. He’s never been sold before. Fresh.”

“I meant his general health.” Mycroft lifted the man’s chin to look into his face, catching a hint of hazel before the man closed his eyes. Forcing the man’s mouth open he checked his teeth and then reached down between his legs to check his genitals.

“Uncut… intact. You can breed him. A retired decorated soldier would be a welcome stud for any of your female house slaves.”

“I’m not looking for a stud for my own household.”

“Oh… we can render him sterile if you’d prefer…”

Mycroft pulled his hand away and checked the man’s face again. “That won’t be necessary. When can I have him?”

“As soon as your payment goes through you can…” 

Mycroft snapped his fingers and an assistant with a blackberry stepped up. “Anthea, please see to the sale.”

“Yes, Master.” Anthea turned to the slaver to work out the price.

^.~

The slave sat awkwardly in the back of the limousine. Clothes had been provided by Mycroft upon the end of the transaction but they didn’t fit too well. They were meant for someone taller and thicker. The former soldier looked small within them.

“Do you have a name?”

“I did…” The man replied, staring down at his hands. “Before I lost it to debt…”

“What was your name?”

“What would you have it be, Master?”

Mycroft waved the question away. “I’m not your Master. You are a gift… a very expensive gift, but a gift nonetheless. What was your name when you were a soldier and a doctor?”

“John… John Watson.”

“Then that is what we shall call you, John Watson.” They rode in silence for a long time, John clutching the pant legs that were too big for him. Finally Mycroft broke the silence. “What did you do to earn such a heavy debt to lose your freedom?”

John shook his head. 

“Come now… I have a right to know to where my hard earned income was sent, don’t I? What was your debt?”

“Family…” John muttered.

“Family? Your paperwork shows you don’t have a family. You never married… no children.”

“My sister…” John replied quietly. “It was her debt…”

“You sold yourself to pay your sister’s debt?” Mycroft shook his head. “I have heard of that happening before… and I am truly sorry you got caught up in that. It is an unjust world we live in where we are forced to pay our relations’ debts with our own bodies…”

“It was either her or me… and I am a soldier. I will survive.”

“Of course you will…” The limo stopped and Mycroft looked out the window. “Here we are.” The door was opened and Mycroft stepped out, beckoning John to join him. “221 Baker Street, your new home. Come, John… we’ll see if your Master is in a good mood.” Mycroft led the way to the door and rang the bell.

An older woman opened the door and looked over Mycroft. “He’s in a mood today, Mr. Holmes.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hudson. This is John. Can we come in?”

“Of course…” Mrs. Hudson opened the door for them and stepped aside as Mycroft started up the stairs.

Mycroft stopped and whirled around to face John. In a rough whisper he drew the other man close. “You will not tell him what you are or where I found you. Do you understand? You are John Watson and you are a soldier and a doctor… not a slave.”

“I… but if he’s my Master…”

“Not a word! He IS your Master for all legal purposes but you are not to live as a slave… understand?”

“Yes, Master…”

“Mycroft.”

“Mycroft…” John nodded.

“You are to live with him and keep him company… THAT is your ONLY command. I do not expect you to act as a slave. Be yourself! I bought a former freeman for a REASON. ACT like one! But STAY with him… no matter what he does or says you STAY. You will have all your needs provided for but you will STAY.”

John nodded mutely.

“Come along…” Mycroft resumed his climb and knocked at the B flat. 

“Go away!” A man called through the door.

Mycroft opened the door and stepped in to stare at his half naked brother lounging on the sofa wearing only an open robe. “You should cover up.”

“This is MY flat.” The man replied airily waving off Mycroft’s words. “Who is that?” 

John stepped into the room and got his first look at his new Master. The man looked young and pale. His cheeks were sunken and his eyes bloodshot. His black hair was almost matted. Experience told him that he was looking at a junkie. A young man with too much disposable income and nothing to live for could easily poison themselves to death. Even his own sister had found her own poison with what little money she had… until she started borrowing it.

“Sherlock… please sit up. This is your new flatmate, John Watson.”

Sherlock refrained from moving but stared at John with near lifeless eyes. “I don’t need a flatmate…”

Mycroft went to Sherlock’s side and tried to get the other man to sit up or at least close his robe. “John, this is my brother… Sherlock.”

“Piss off!”

“He can be rather charming when he’s sober.” Mycroft managed to get the other man to sit up and decent. Helplessly he carded his fingers through the knots. “Unfortunately he’s not at his best right now.”

“I SAID ‘Piss Off!’” Sherlock growled.

In that moment John understood his task. Sherlock needed help and his own brother made sacrifices to provide it… even going so far as to buy a slave to take the role as care giver. “What has he been taking?”

“Unfortunately my brother is an accomplished chemist… whatever it is he probably made it or modified it from something else.”

“Fuck you…” Sherlock moaned, barely able to keep his eyes open.

“I need to run him a bath… would you…?”

John sat down on the other side of Sherlock and took over keeping the other man vertical as Mycroft left for the bathroom. A few moments later water started.

Sherlock blinked at John and made a face. “You’re a WHORE!”

John froze, unsure what to say or do. But a few moments later he was rescued by Mycroft who picked up the other nearly emaciated man and carried him off to the bathroom. John was left to sit alone on a dirty sofa. His ears heard the water turn off and arguing echoing around the bathroom. There was a lot of splashing and shouts of “HOLD STILL!” As John listened his eyes took in the flat, seeing the clutter of a life destroyed by drugs. A pang of empathy went through him, remembering how his sister’s flat had looked.

Mycroft emerged from the bathroom carrying a body wrapped up in a towel. “With me, John.”

John followed the other man into the bedroom where he placed an unconscious Sherlock on the bed. “He’ll be out for a few hours…” With a deep sigh he picked at his soaked suit and ruined silk tie. 

“He called me a whore…” John whispered, staring at the sleeping man.

“Don’t be silly… whores get paid. I need to go clear the flat. Stay with him?”

John nodded and sat on the bed beside the unconscious man. Gently he used the towel to pat the other man dry and then tossed it off the edge of the bed before tucking him in under the blankets. This was not the kind of Master he had expected to serve.

^.~

“You take the dildo every night, increasing the girth every two nights until you reach the desired stretch.” The sex slaver instructed to the small collection of bed slaves he trained. Most of the group was pubescent boys, born into slavery and picked for their beauty. There were a few female slaves, but John was the only fully grown man in the room aside from the sex slaver. “Every night… and when you are in service to your master you are expected to always be ready for any advances. A generous Master will provide you with your dildos to keep you stretched… a less than generous Master and you will need to improvise to keep that stretch. I would not advise lazing in your stretching… one never knows when they will be resold to a more enthusiastic Master…” The slaver pulled down a wall chart. “Here is a list of household items you can use…”

The first night with the dildo had been painful… it slowly became bearable over time.

^.~

John woke from his light sleep to find Sherlock staring at him. It took a moment for him to clear away his memories from training to focus on his Master. “Yes?”

“You talk in your sleep.”

“Sorry…” John replied, yawning into his hand. Luckily he remembered not to address Sherlock as “Master.”

“Why are you here?”

“You needed a flatmate.”

“Your clothes don’t fit you.”

“I lost a lot of weight…”

“The pants are too long.”

“I lost a lot of height…”

“They aren’t your clothes.” Sherlock tucked the blanket under his chin.

“You’re right… they’re not. Your brother gave them to me.”

“Why?” There was a great deal of suspicion behind that word.

“Because my own clothes weren’t appropriate.”

“I’m a junkie… how inappropriate can they be?”

John bit his lip, wondering just how much he could give away that would keep Mycroft’s wishes intact. 

“You talked about dildos.”

John startled and stared at Sherlock in surprise. “Dildos?”

“Yes… dildos.” Sherlock smirked. Casually he reached out and lightly touched John’s cheek. When John didn’t flinch his hand caressed the other man’s face. “I was right? You’re a whore?”

“Whores get paid.” John replied automatically.

Sherlock pulled his hand away and rolled back onto his back to glare at the ceiling. “That… FUCKER!”

John stayed where he was, curling into himself.

“Oh GODS! I can’t believe he… I should have SEEN it! If I wasn’t so fucked up right now I WOULD have seen it! Aaargh! That bloody tosser!” Sherlock pounded his fists and kicked his legs. “FUCK!” Digging his wrists into his eye sockets he fumed for a few more minutes before the fight finally went out of him. With a final “Shit…” he let his arms fall and he fell into another sleep.

John peeked out from under his arm to regard his now snoring Master. It seemed his secret was out.

^.~

Sherlock sat at the table watching John prepare breakfast of toast and eggs. It was the first breakfast he had had in a really long time. It seemed Mycroft had provided groceries as well as a live in helper. “So… where’d you learn to cook?”

“I picked it up…” John replied, busy with the eggs.

“Is that a normal skill for your kind to have… making breakfast?”

“I wasn’t always what I am now. I was a freeman for most of my life. I learned to cook my own breakfast.” John divided up the food and brought both plates to the table.

Sherlock poked at his eggs with a fork.

“Eat it… doctor’s orders.”

“You’re not a doctor anymore…” Sherlock muttered but he tasted the egg. Very soon his plate was empty and John got up to make him more.

“I think I provide that service now that I’m here taking care of you…”

Sherlock finished his seconds and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “How’d you become a…”

“Debt. It was debt.”

“You don’t strike me as the sort of person who would have a lot of debt.” 

“It wasn’t my debt. I got home from the war and I… found out about it… my life was pretty much over it didn’t really matter if I washed kitchens or worked in a field…”

“Or slept in a bed…” Sherlock mused, playing with his fork.

“I had been a soldier… many desire those strong traits to be passed on to the next generation of slaves… like gladiators of old...”

Sherlock blinked a few times. His eyes much clearer than they had been as the poison worked its way out of his system. “Studding… you were trained for studding,”

John vaguely nodded and bit his lips in silence.

“I… have no use for that sort of service…” Sherlock stretched suddenly, revealing his belly button under the ratty old t-shirt he wore. “I don’t keep slaves.” 

“Except one…” John breathed.

“You know what I mean… I don’t have female slaves for you to impregnate. You can’t be a stud.” Sherlock rubbed his face with his hands. “I should give you back to Mycroft… he keeps slaves.”

“That’s not why he sent me here.”

“You’re here to babysit me.” Sherlock stretched again. “Because I can’t be trusted to look after myself… I bet you never imagined your status would go from stud to governess just with one transaction by my meddling brother, did you?”

“It wasn’t the service I thought I would be rendering for my Master… no.”

“What do bed slaves do?”

John blinked and looked at Sherlock. “What?”

“Aside from studding…”

“You know what a bed slave is…”

Sherlock shrugged. “My father kept one… more like a valet, really… except he stayed in father’s bed chamber. Father had him impregnate all our female slaves and then sold the children…”

John shivered.

“What do they do?”

“They… have sex with their Masters and anyone their Masters wish them to breed with.”

Sherlock frowned. “Is that… what you were supposed to do? Breed with anyone your Master wants you to breed with?”

“Within reason… I can’t be bred to a freewoman. I can pleasure a Mistress but I can’t breed with her.”

“How?”

“Usually if a bed slave serves a Mistress the slave is rendered sterile.”

“Are you sterile?”

“No.” John gave a small smile. “I was fresh out of training when your brother bought me. You’re my first Master.”

^.~

The man smiled at Sherlock, barely giving John a second glance. He was as tall as Sherlock and obviously came from means. His skin was pale and his hair a golden blond. 

“Trevor…” Sherlock greeted, looking up from his work.

“Holmes.” The man smiled. “I have something for you.” Reaching into his suit pocket he pulled out a vial of white. “Pure, of course.”

“Of course…” Sherlock echoed as he held the vial in his hand.

“Same payment as usual…”

Sherlock got up from the table and walked towards the sofa. John stood, watching from the doorway of the bedroom, unsure how to stop what he was watching. This was more than a bit not good. When Sherlock kicked off his pajama bottoms and pants he blinked in surprise as the man offered his naked arse to Trevor.

Trevor took off his suit jacket and laid it across the back of the chair before undoing his pants. “You’ve gained weight!” From one of his pockets he pulled out a condom and rolled it on along with some examination gloves. Taking a bottle of lube he hastily probed Sherlock’s arse. “So very tight… Like a fucking virgin!”

Sherlock buried his head in his arms and kept still as Trevor probed him. It was hastily done and sloppy. Too soon Trevor pushed in with a grunt and Sherlock cried out in pain.

John could see that Sherlock wasn’t aroused. His penis hung limp and tight against his body. 

Trevor muttered dirty commentary on what he was doing, condom and gloves ensuring he never made skin contact with Sherlock’s body. “Let me hear you…”

Sherlock turned his head and cried out in pain. Opening his eyes he caught John’s appearance in the doorway. Pain and misery was etched on his face and every hard thrust brought a fresh wince. 

John took a step closer, opening his mouth to protest his Master’s treatment by the man who invaded their flat. But his Master shook his head and rubbed his face against the cushions. 

Trevor finally climaxed and pulled out. Hastily he removed the condom and dropped it on the floor with a wet splat, followed by the gloves. As he fixed his clothing he smirked down at Sherlock who hadn’t moved. “As always… a pleasure doing business with you, Holmes.” Picking up his suit jacket he headed out the door.

After the door closed John waited a heartbeat before rushing to the door to lock it. Then he approached Sherlock. “Master?” Lightly he touched the other man’s back. Sherlock hadn’t even removed his t-shirt, it was bunched around his armpits from his crouched position on the sofa. 

Sherlock rubbed his face against the cushions in silence, his hand still clinging to the vial.

“Oh… Master…” John checked Sherlock’s arse and found it to be red but otherwise undamaged. Lightly he checked with his fingers, looking for tears or cuts. There was none but below him he could hear Sherlock whimper. Gently he laid a hand at the base of his Master’s spine. “Come along… I’ll draw you a bath.” With some difficulty he managed to get the other man to stand and walk with him to the bathroom. Sherlock sat on the toilet as John drew the bath. When it was ready he helped Sherlock into the tub and let him sit in the hot water. “I know… it will burn… but it will help.”

Sherlock blinked up at John, looking pale and drawn. 

John took Sherlock’s hand and gently pulled the vial from his fingers. When Sherlock tried to keep it he lightly caressed his Master’s arm. “You don’t need this, Master… You don’t need it anymore. Give it to me.”

Sherlock opened his hand and allowed John to take the vial. 

John kissed his temple and Sherlock gave a heavy sigh as John got up and dumped the contents down the sink. After rinsing out the vial he threw it away in the wastebasket. “I’m going to go clean up. I’ll be right back. You soak for a little bit and then I’ll come wash your hair.”

Mutely Sherlock nodded and watched John leave.

Hastily John went into the living room and grabbed the gloves and the used condom. Taking them to the garbage he made sure to bury them as deeply as he could so no one would see them. After washing his hands in the kitchen sink he went back to the bathroom and sat beside the tub. “You ready for me to finish washing you?”

Sherlock nodded and scooted back in the tub, wetting his hair. 

As John lathered and rinsed the dark curls he watched his Master’s face carefully for any signs of distress. There was none. Sherlock stared up at John in silence, occasionally blinking when John caressed his head. With the washing over John helped Sherlock get out of the tub and wrapped a towel around him. Carefully he dried off his master, making sure to get the moisture out of his hair before wrapping him up. “Come on… You should rest.”

Sherlock followed John’s orders and was guided back to the bedroom where he dropped the towel on the floor and climbed up onto the bed.

John blinked at his Master’s half arousal. During Trevor’s “payment” his Master wasn’t aroused. It was only while John was taking care of Sherlock’s needs that his Master’s cock began to stiffen. “Do you want me to go?”

Sherlock shook his head and adjusted himself so he was laying on top of the duvet with his legs open slightly, cock hardening on his stomach. 

John bit his lip as his eyes lingered on his Master’s body. 

Sherlock stared up at the other man, reaching out his hand he took John’s and gently pulled him so he was closer.

John settled on the bed level with Sherlock’s waist. Leaning in he lightly kissed his Master’s side, his tongue drawing lazy patterns on the warm skin between kisses. His mind was ever attentive to Sherlock’s responses as he had been taught to do. It seemed right now Sherlock needed care and tenderness. John reached out and placed his hand on Sherlock’s hip as he shifted to kiss more of Sherlock’s skin.

Sherlock began to pant slightly and his own hand rested on the top of John’s head, fingers tangling in the blond hair. 

John smiled against the skin he kissed, feeling Sherlock’s hand. There was a gentle pressure pushing him downwards and he let it guide his movements as he kissed and lapped at the pale skin. Teasing his Master his kisses followed down over a slightly boney hip and down over a thigh, heading towards a knee. When Sherlock’s fingers tightened in his hair he knew he had bypassed the place Sherlock wanted him. Slowly he worked his way back up the other thigh to kiss the other hip, getting comfortable as he shifted to be between Sherlock’s legs. 

Sherlock opened his legs for John and waited with his knees up and open on either side of John’s ribs. Holding his breath he looked down at the man between his legs.

John gave his Master a smile and then kissed the tip of Sherlock’s cock.

Sherlock gasped and pushed his hips up to John’s face.

John kept eye contact and lazily licked the swollen organ from base to tip. “You’re beautiful…” John whispered as he opened his mouth and swallowed Sherlock to the base, relaxing his throat to allow the deepest strokes.

Sherlock cried out and clutched John’s head, keeping him in place as he wiggled his hips, trying to get closer.

John began to bob along the shaft, using his tongue to lave at his Master’s length. John had been the best at blow jobs… of course he was the only slave in training who had ever received them. Being born a freeman had its privileges and gave him an advantage because he knew from experience what felt good. Pulling away a bit he wrapped his hand around the base so he could concentrate on the tip, swirling his tongue around and around before dipping it into the urethra and tasting the salty fluid that collected there. 

“John!” Sherlock desperately tried to pull the other man up his body.

John crawled up his Master’s body and continued to thrust his hips against the man who writhed beneath him. It didn’t matter that he was clothed… Sherlock needed him, needed relief. 

Sherlock’s hands found their way under John’s shirt so he could touch warm skin. Unfortunately John’s trousers were too rough for his over sensitive skin. His hands made a desperate attempt to undo the trousers.

“I’ve got it…” John whispered as he undid his own trousers and pushed them along with his pants down to his knees. Pulling off his shirt he lay back down on his Master and rubbed against the other man. 

Sherlock wrapped himself around John’s body and met his thrusts. “Harder…” Sherlock murmured.

John obeyed as he kissed Sherlock’s shoulders and chest. “Do you want to be inside of me?”

Sherlock shook his head and cried out, holding John close. Something warm and wet spurted between them.

John held still and continued to kiss his Master’s skin, listening to the other man gasp into his ears. When his Master’s breath evened out he pulled away and looked down at the debauched man below him. Getting off the bed he found the discarded towel and used it to wipe away his Master’s semen on both their bellies. Then he covered Sherlock with the blankets and began to get dressed again. 

“You don’t have to get dressed…” Sherlock mumbled from where he lay.

John took off his remaining clothes and folded them up before climbing into bed with his Master. All at once he had a very clingy Sherlock wrapped around him. “Next time he comes…”

Sherlock shook his head and used John’s chest as a pillow. “I don’t want him to come anymore.”

“I was just thinking… I could make the payment for you.”

“No.” Sherlock shifted so his face was wedged into John’s armpit.

“You own me… every part of me… and I was trained for what he wants…”

“He can’t have you, John.” Sherlock muttered. “But it doesn’t matter… I don’t need what he brings me.”

“You wanted it until I took it away from you and threw it away…”

“I want to be clean… for you.”

John felt his heart up in his throat… it seemed to be doing flip flops. “Master…”

Sherlock rolled over until he was settled again, clinging to John and using him as a pillow, one leg cast over his legs. “I feel better… more alive. It’s all your fault, you know… yours and Mycroft’s… I didn’t want to live but you forced me to.” 

John chuckled softly. 

“If I stay clean will you…”

“Anything you want, Master…”

Sherlock frowned. “Don’t call me Master.” Idly he played with John’s nipple, making it harden. “You were a freeman once… I can’t bare to hear you call me Master…”

“Very well, Sherlock.” They lay for some time in silence with Sherlock exploring John’s body. “What is it you wanted?”

“It’s nothing…” Sherlock sighed and forced his exploration hand closed.

“It isn’t ‘nothing.’” John replied. “It’s gotten you all moody.”

Sherlock made a face at the observation. “If I stay clean… will you…?”

“What?”

“Will you do what he did to me?”

“I would never hurt you!” John tried to sit up and look at Sherlock but he was trapped.

“No! I mean… What we did a little while ago… can we…?”

“You want to fuck me.”

“Yes… I mean no! I mean…”

“I am a sex slave.”

“No, you’re not…” Sherlock murmured as he pulled away to lie on his own pillow. “Not to me.”

“But that is what I am… You are my Master… I can’t deny you.”

“Damnit, John!” Sherlock rolled over so his back was to John. “Just… forget it…”

^.~

Trevor appeared two weeks later, smiling at John as he pushed through to enter the flat uninvited. 

Sherlock looked up from his experiment and frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“You know my product is really expensive…”

Sherlock shrugged and resumed his work. “I never paid with money…”

Trevor approached Sherlock and slammed his hands down on the table the other man worked at, sending several of his things crashing to the floor. “I don’t appreciate you ending our deal!”

“I don’t need it anymore… I plan to try sobriety.”

“Oh, Sherlock… Sherlock… I KNOW you. You’ll get bored and hunger for what I give you. But where will I be?” The tall blond lightly touched Sherlock’s hair, petting him like a child. 

John stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching until Sherlock gave him a panicked look. “He’s not interested.”

Trevor turned to regard John. “Who the hell are you?”

“A… a friend.” John replied.

“Sherlock doesn’t have any friends. Isn’t that right, Sherly?”

Sherlock pushed Trevor’s hand away. “No, he’s really my… my friend.”

Trevor gave John an assessing look, looking disgusted. “Stay out of it.”

John watched Trevor paw at Sherlock and Sherlock try to move away until he was grabbed and thrown over the edge of the table. Trevor put his hand on Sherlock’s arse, attempting to pull down his pajama bottoms. John finally snapped to action. Quickly he grabbed the man and pulled his arm back behind his back, hand up by his scapula. “You will never touch Sherlock again, do you hear me? Keep your drugs and your hands to yourself! Sherlock asked you to LEAVE!” John bum rushed the man out the door and locked it.

Sherlock stayed where he was, half sprawled over the table, staring at John who stared back. Sherlock slowly found his way back into his chair and sat down, unmindful to the mess his experiment was now in. 

John ran a hand through his hair and glanced back at the door to make sure it was locked.

“Thank you.” Sherlock’s thanks were soft, barely carrying into the living room.

John shook his head and returned to his place in Sherlock’s bedroom.

A short time later Sherlock entered the bedroom and stood beside the bed. His eyes glanced at John and then stared across the room. “Undress me.”

John got up from the bed and began to undress his Master, setting his robe, pajama bottoms and t-shirt aside.

“All of it.” Sherlock stated.

John pushed the pants down Sherlock’s thighs and off his feet, adding it to the stack of clothing.

“Undress yourself.” Sherlock commanded as he crawled up onto the bed facing the headboard.

“M-master?”

“You heard me.” Sherlock’s voice was low and dangerous.

John obeyed, watching with growing concern as Sherlock went through the night stand drawer and pulled out a bottle of lotion. 

Sherlock tossed the bottle at John and then got up on his hands and knees. “Prepare me.”

When John was undressed he got up onto the bed and reached out to touch Sherlock’s thigh. “Master this isn’t…”

“You won’t speak to me.” Sherlock stated coolly. “You will prepare me and then you will fuck me… as if you were still a freeman.”

John bowed his head, his fingers lightly touching his Master’s calf. “Master… please…” 

“Do as you’re told!” Sherlock bit his lips and pressed his face into the pillows.

John shifted so he was behind Sherlock, an arm wrapped around Sherlock’s lower back. The other hand lightly caressed Sherlock’s sphincter. 

Sherlock moaned and pushed back into the delicate touch. “You don’t have to be gentle… I’m no virgin.”

John nodded. Of course Sherlock wasn’t a virgin… it seemed Trevor had demanded his body for a long time. All Sherlock knew of the bedroom was Trevor’s rough touch. Licking his lips he leaned in and kissed the puckered entrance, kissing it and tasting it. Sherlock was clean… the man had bathed shortly before Trevor had appeared. His tongue began to probe, gently easing the muscle open enough to gently poke it with his fingertip. His tongue continued, lapping and kissing at the tight hole, able to push in one finger to the base. His kisses shifted to Sherlock’s buttocks as he pumped out a liberal handful of lotion and continued the slow, drawn out process of opening Sherlock.

Meanwhile Sherlock squirmed and cried out against his pillow. It seemed John was in no hurry to plunder his Master even though his Master demanded it. By the time John eased in two fingers Sherlock was already rock hard and dripping. When Trevor had done this it was quick and painful. John made it feel good, damn him! Although Sherlock had secretly hoped that John would know how to make it feel good. But the man was driving him out of his mind as he waited for the stretch of three fingers. “JOHN! Just DO it!”

John pulled his fingers out and then moved behind his master, stroking himself to get hard. It didn’t take much to get himself ready. For a moment he remembered the last time he had fucked anyone as a freeman… had it been before the war? A girlfriend who had dumped him in an email? Had it really been Mary? That had been five years before all of this. And now he was about to fuck someone else… his Master. Guiding himself into place he pushed in and eased himself into the tight heat. It was nothing like being with a woman. The body below him was so very male. The orifice he entered wasn’t meant for this activity… he had to be careful. Easing out he pushed back in slowly. Sherlock trembled beneath him and for a moment he was tempted to ask why… but he remembered his command and continued as gently as he could.

“Harder…” Sherlock called to the man behind him. John’s slow, easy strokes were driving him out of his mind. It wasn’t anything like he was used to. Sex should be quick and painful… not this slow, drawn out process. And John wasn’t even wearing a condom or touching him with gloves as if he was untouchable… or a vile, diseased… thing. “Harder!”

John paused in his movements. Changing his angle he searched for a spot that should please his Master. John knew when he hit it because Sherlock practically got up. 

“Holy fuck!” Sherlock squealed, now on his knees. “What the hell did you just do?”

John looked up from Sherlock from somewhere around his shoulder. The movement had dislodged him.

“SPEAK! What was THAT?”

“Your prostate… I hit your prostate.”

Sherlock rubbed his face with his hands. “Why can’t you… just DO what you’re told?!”

“You told me to fuck you.” John replied helplessly.

“I was expecting more like what Trevor does to me… not… THIS! You used your tongue on me… you took forever to prepare me… you hit my prostate. What the hell is wrong with you?”

John blinked and shook his head, looking down at Sherlock’s erection, evidence the other man had enjoyed what they were doing. “That’s sex, Master. You’re supposed to enjoy it.”

Sherlock looked down at himself, surprised to see his own erection. 

“It’s supposed to feel good… lay down, Master? Please? On your back this time.”

Sherlock lay back down on his back, knees up and open.

John settled himself between Sherlock’s thighs and pushed back in. “Like this, Master…” John began slow, deep thrusts. His hand caressed Sherlock’s cock. “You’re so warm… and soft inside. Different than a woman…” John angled himself and found the prostate again.

“Oh Gods… John…” Sherlock reached out to pull John down to him, his body unable to take much more stimulation. Wrapping himself around the other man he began to writhe and move, helplessly holding John’s shoulders. “Harder… oh… HARDER!”

John obeyed, biting his lip to keep himself from climaxing. It was bad form to climax when you weren’t asked to.

Sherlock went stiff and cried out, wetness spurting between them for several breathless moments. Finally he went limp and relaxed. John pulled out, still hard and Sherlock glared at the engorged organ as if it offended him. “You didn’t finish.”

“I’m a bed slave…”

“I don’t care what the fuck you are! I said fuck me like you were a freeman!”

John nodded mutely and got up from the bed.

“Where are you GOING?”

“To take care of this?”

“JOHN!” Sherlock made grabby hands until John sat back down. Reaching down he took the damp organ in hand. Never had Trevor gone bare inside of him… to feel evidence that John had been inside his body made him shiver as he began to stroke him. It didn’t take long before John was writhing against his grip and soon semen covered his hand, wet and warm. “Next time… finish.” Sherlock pulled his hand away and wiped it on the nearest article of clothing he could find. Laying back he rested his arm over his eyes. 

“Yes… Master…” John breathed.

^.~

“How are things getting on?” Mycroft asked casually of John during a visit. “He looks healthier.”

John glanced at Sherlock who kept his distance from Mycroft as if wary of his brother’s presence. “He knows what I am.”

“Of course he does… how long did it take him to figure it out?”

“The first night… after he woke up…”

“If he had been sober he would have figured it out the moment you walked into the room.”

“I think it was the clothes that tipped him off.”

“Hmm… yes… Your wardrobe fits better.” Mycroft looked over the other man’s trousers and sweater. “Not what I would have chosen for you… but you’re not mine to dress. Sherlock didn’t pick out your clothes.”

“He doesn’t really care what I wear… except when we’re in bed.”

“Does he still sleep in the nude?”

“Yes…” John stared down at his hands.

“We never could keep him clothed at night…” Mycroft smirked. “He claimed it was bad for his circulation. What I find most amusing is that he wears pajamas most days and yet at night…”

John blinked. “Yes… I’ve noticed that.”

Mycroft sat beside John. “Not too demanding, is he?”

“No… no… he’s good. He doesn’t ask for much.”

“And all your needs are met?” 

“You provide the food… usually he just hands me his wallet and tells me to go get what we need with hints here and there for things like biscuits or clothes that fit me.”

“I meant your… physical needs.”

John stared down at his hands. “I am a slave… what needs can I possibly have?”

“Things we all need, John, whether we’re slave or not…”

John carefully licked his lower lip, still staring at his hands.

“My brother is clueless when it comes to the bedroom… he’s never…”

John stared at Mycroft with a horrified look.

“He’s never had a proper relationship outside of what he had with Victor Trevor.”

“You know about him?”

“Of course I know about him. Why else do you think you’re here? Being what you are I had hoped he would learn what a healthy relationship could be outside of… THAT.”

“But I’m a slave.”

Mycroft sighed deeply, leaning back on the sofa and glancing off into the kitchen where Sherlock was busy being anti-social. “What man would have him? He doesn’t DO relationships. He’s self-destructive and stubborn… What freeman or freewoman would give him what he needs and not lose patience with him? He NEEDS this… what you provide but no freeman will bother with. He’s… unlovable and yet he desperately needs to be loved and cherished. He’s given up on himself, John. I’m sorry it has fallen on you… perhaps when he is ready I can introduce him to someone else. You may be a slave but what you give him is so much MORE than Trevor ever could. It isn’t THAT horrible, is it? He doesn’t tie you up and abuse you, does he? I would want to know if he does…”

“He doesn’t hurt me…” John whispered. Far from it… Sherlock always asked to be on the bottom and John climaxed inside of his Master.

“I brought you a gift. No doubt he would never think to provide you with them.” Mycroft picked up the case at his feet and opened it to reveal a set of dildos. “I hope it hasn’t been too terrible for you. I should have brought them sooner…”

“No… It’s fine…” John lightly touched the set… made of the finest materials and no doubt very expensive… meant for a rich man’s bed slave. “They are…”

“The finest set money can buy.” Mycroft smiled.

“It’s… too much…” John lightly touched one.

“Nonsense. You do me a great service… above and beyond what you were trained to do. So it’s only the best for my brother’s care giver.”

“Thank you…” John tried to smile at his Master’s brother.

Mycroft leaned in and kissed him on the lips. It was the first time a Master had kissed his lips. John had been trained to open his mouth and allow the intimate affection, but never to expect it. Too soon Mycroft was pulling him closer and pushing his tongue into John’s mouth, exploring him in ways Sherlock never thought to try. The Master’s hand gently pushed into the back of John’s trousers and into his pants, pushing a finger into John. “You’re very tight… too tight.”

John gasped and arched his back at the intrusion. It didn’t hurt, not really… it just wasn’t expected and he was conditioned to respond in a way that would encourage the Master to do as he wished.

“I’m half tempted to take you back for myself…” Mycroft murmured against John’s lips as his finger continued to probe. “I would keep you sated… you would never have to lift a finger to do work except to pleasure me…”

“JOHN!” Sherlock stood before the sofa, glaring at both men. 

Instinctively John flinched at his Master’s tone.

“Go to the bedroom… NOW!” Sherlock commanded.

John got up from Mycroft’s lap and headed for the bedroom, pausing before the door to hear the brothers.

“You have no right to touch him!” Sherlock snarled. “He’s MINE!”

“Oh? Is he? I’m the one that bought him… and you don’t use him.” 

Sherlock had a bit of a tantrum at that moment that mostly sounded like frustrated yelling. John edged closer to look out at the living room. Sure enough his Master was pacing before the sofa and yelling. John went back to the bedroom and lay down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He could still hear Sherlock’s voice carry through the walls. 

Several minutes later there was a slam of the door followed by silence. The door to the bedroom burst open and Sherlock entered, carrying the case, practically throwing them at the bed. It opened and dildos went flying everywhere. Still very upset Sherlock left the room and slammed the door behind him. A few seconds later the front door slammed again and John was left alone.

Sherlock didn’t return that night. In the morning John left the bedroom to use the bathroom and make himself breakfast. The flat was empty. Towards afternoon John became very worried. It took him several attempts before working up the nerve to dial Mycroft at the number he had been given for emergencies.

“John? What is it?” Mycroft asked.

“Sherlock’s gone.” John replied. “He… left shortly after you did and he hasn’t come back.”

Mycroft uttered something unbecoming of a gentleman. “Thank you for calling me.” There was a dial tone and John hung up.

It was night when a detective inspector from NSY came to the door. “Is this the residence of Sherlock Holmes?”

“Yes… did you find him?” John asked.

“He spent the entire afternoon in our holding facility, too drugged out to tell us who he was and with no identification.”

Sherlock was led into the living room by another officer and left on the sofa. 

“His brother contacted us and pulled a few strings. He assured us that Sherlock can be left in your care.”

“Yes, thank you!” John went to the sofa to stare at a despondent Sherlock. “Gods, Sherlock… what did you do to yourself?” Gently he touched the other man’s cheek.

Sherlock flinched away, averting his eyes from John. 

The DI handed John a card. “If you need anything, please call.”

“Thank you… I will.” John shook the other man’s hand and led them all out the door. When they were on the other side he locked up and returned to Sherlock’s side. “Master… Gods, Master… look at you.” 

Sherlock stared off into the distance, silent. 

John gently tugged, trying to get the other man to sit up at least. Finally he got Sherlock into an upright position, not missing the wince. “You’re hurt? Where are you hurt? Master… please…” John nearly attacked the man, pulling at clothes and trying to shift Sherlock over until he found the blood seeping into Sherlock’s pajama bottoms. Hastily he pulled them down, finding the pants missing and blood flowing from a hidden wound. “Master… Master please let me check!” Managing to get Sherlock on his hands and knees he checked and found out where the blood was coming from. For the second time that day he made a call to Mycroft.

“What is it now?” Mycroft sounded wary.

“It’s Sherlock…”

“He was found, wasn’t he? I was told he had been picked up shortly after noon.”

John bowed his head, rubbing his face in his hand. “He’s been… I found blood in his pajama bottoms so I checked for the wound…”

“Trevor…” Mycroft breathed. “He got the drugs from Trevor…” There was a long silence where both men just breathed into the phone. “How bad is he hurt?”

“I don’t know… I don’t have the supplies to fix it… All I can do is clean it… and he doesn’t respond to me. I could barely get him to roll over so I could check it. I don’t know if I can get him to the bath… or… gods, I just don’t know.”

“I’ll send help. We’ll find out who did this, I promise… but I have my suspicions. Thank you, John.”

^.~

John woke up when Sherlock started to shift in the bed beside him. John sat up and checked on Sherlock’s vitals. It had been tricky sedating the man after the drugs had cleared his system. It helped to know what Trevor had given him so the medication didn’t kill him. Trevor was enjoying a very miffed Mycroft’s personal dungeon at the moment… but Sherlock was pulling through. “How do you feel?” John asked his Master.

“Horrible…” Sherlock moaned. 

“I can give you something for the pain.” John reached for the bottle of pain killers and the glass of water. 

Sherlock took them without a fight and lay on his side. 

“Mycroft has Victor Trevor in his custody…”

Sherlock nodded mutely.

“He told us what he did to you… He said you asked him to… to hurt you. Mycroft doesn’t believe him… he’s waiting on your word.”

Sherlock curled up, tucking his hands under his chin and pulling his knees up. “I did. I asked him to tear me apart. He did as I asked…”

“Sherlock… That’s horrible… no sane person would have obeyed that request. And you weren’t in your right mind to make it!”

“I am a freeman, John… as is he… and that’s more than you are.”

“I was a freeman! I know what kinds of relationships are good and what kinds are sick and twisted! What he does to you is sick and twisted!”

“At least he has free will.” Sherlock replied. “That’s more than I can say for some people… You’ll open your ass to any Master you serve… because they are your MASTER. You OBEY your Master, whether it be to suck him or fuck him… or let him kiss you and pretend like you’re his special pet.” Sherlock sneered those words.

“Sherlock…”

“No… call me for what I am… Master. At least I can stop pretending you have any regard for me… seeing you practically fuck my brother showed me that! He brings you special presents… did you use them and think of him?”

“Sherlock, STOP!” John got out of the bed, naked and shivering. “Just stop! I understand… you were hurt. You felt betrayed and so you let that sick monster hurt you. I’m saying any normal SANE person would have treated you better when you were obviously already hurting emotionally. No normal person looks at an emotionally bereft person and thinks it’s a great idea to physically hurt them unless they have something wrong in their head. And maybe it was his revenge for your rejecting him… but it’s still not right! That’s not free will… that’s just him being an asshat!”

“We aren’t normal.” Sherlock shook his head. “Trevor and I… we’re NOT normal. No one understands us so all we have is each other.”

“Sherlock… you’re a whore to him! He BUYS you with drugs! You aren’t a freeman in his eyes… you are a THING he goes to when he wants to fuck… you’re… practically a bed slave except you live away from your Master. If you refuse him… he will happily hurt you and think nothing of it. In his mind he OWNS you by giving you drugs.”

Sherlock closed his eyes and shook his head. “What other choice do I have? He’s the only one who can stand to be with me…”

John’s heart broke a little bit and he sat back down on the bed. “You have me, Master…”

“Yes… and I OWN you!” Sherlock snarled and rolled over to end their discussion.

“You own me…” John acknowledged. “Her name was Mary… and she had hair like… copper. It smelled of strawberries from her shampoo… and I loved her desperately…”

Sherlock shifted a little bit, but otherwise didn’t respond to John’s words.

“I wanted to marry her… I planned to marry her when I finished my training. A war had broken out and I did my civic duty by joining. As a surgeon and freeman I was trained as an officer… and I was excited. She told me she was pregnant and I was so excited… But she wanted to hold off on the wedding.” John bowed his head. “But then after I was deployed… I got an email. She told me the baby wasn’t mine… that she had been unfaithful. So I called her… to find out if it was true… her lover answered her mobile… it was my mate, Mike… I had called them in the middle of sex. I heard cries of delight I had only ever heard in our bedroom. Something in me died that day. I became a full time soldier. I won more commendations than I can remember… and then I was shot. It seemed like life didn’t want me to be a husband or a father… or even a soldier… so I returned home and found out that my sister, my only living relative was a step away from being dragged off into slavery for her debts. What else could I do? I failed to be a husband, father and soldier… so I tried being a brother and took her place. Because I had been a soldier I was placed into bed slave training… for studding. In a twisted way fate seemed to think I should be a father of slaves. They took away my name… Captain John Hamish Watson MD ceased to exist.” As John spoke he got comfortable on the bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin. “But then your brother found me… at the lowest point in my life he found me and bought me. I am grateful to him… I’ve heard stories of what could have been… Masters who could have ripped me apart and thought nothing of it… Instead I was given to you… to take care of you… because you’re too self-destructive to take care of yourself.” 

“And then you fucked my brother!”

“I didn’t fuck him. He kissed me and used his finger to check how tight I was. I haven’t been kissed since… Mary… since she saw me off to my military training. I haven’t been kissed in… five years.”

“I’ve never been kissed.” Sherlock finally rolled onto his back, wincing a bit at the pain in his bowels. “No one wants me… no one has ever really wanted me. When I was at uni I met Victor… he was witty and intelligent like me. Then he introduced me to his side business… and I became hooked. I didn’t have a lot of money. My family has means but I was still in uni… what need did I have for money? My bills were all paid by the estate. So I was offered a trade. My first time I was already feeling the effects of the drug he gave me when he pushed in… but it still hurt. For a moment it was like… I was floating outside of my body watching him take my corpse… that’s what it seemed like. I was limp. When he finished he pulled out and dropped the condom on the floor. He whispered my praises as he rubbed my back with his hand encased in latex. He doesn’t like to touch… he never liked to touch. Then he left me. The only time I saw him after that was when he was making a delivery… and he asked for the same payment. I grew used to it… There was no pleasure… no kindness… he just did his business and left me with a used condom.” Sherlock bit his lip a moment. “He started calling me a ‘filthy slut’ even though I was only ever with him. His praises turned to insults… and he reminded me over and over that what he did to me was the only affection anyone would ever have for me. And then you came…”

John shifted so he could stare at his Master and watch the emotions that flit across his face in profile.

“I didn’t know it could feel GOOD!” Sherlock covered his eyes with his arm. “I didn’t know it could be… anything other than pain and misery… I didn’t know! The first time you took me in your mouth… later I looked for Trevor’s used condom… there wasn’t one! There wasn’t one on the floor of the living room. Where did it go?”

“I threw it away… while you were in the bath.” John answered.

“So… he did use one on me?”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t… you never have! I may be the dirtiest being on the planet but you’ve never…”

“Master… you’re not dirty.” Gently John caressed his Master’s shoulder. 

“He told me I was filthy…”

“But you’re not!” John sighed and scooted closer so he could wrap an arm around Sherlock’s chest. 

“He told me no one will want me… And then I saw you kissing Mycroft and I… I knew it was true.”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry you saw that, Master…”

“But it showed me the truth… you are just a slave. You can only do what your Master commands you to do… nothing more. If Mycroft had asked you to undress for him you would have. He bought you… he has that right. What do I have? So I sought out Trevor to make me forget… remind me who I was before you came along and ruined me.”

“He’s not worthy of you, Master.”

“You RUINED me!”

John sighed and rubbed his forehead against Sherlock’s shoulder. “Why? Because I showed you tenderness?”

“Tenderness I can’t have!”

“You CAN have it! Sherlock… I’m YOURS! And I will only ever touch you in tenderness.”

“But… you can’t love me.”

John sighed again and pulled away. “It’s very dangerous to love a Master…”

“Why?”

“I am only property. I can be bought and sold… I can be given away. If I love… Masters don’t love back. Too many slaves are ruined because they believe in their Master’s love… Masters have fickle hearts. The slave they promise to set free today they sell tomorrow. Never trust a Master’s love.”

Sherlock gaped at John with his mouth open and eyes wide. “Is that what you think of me?”

“I am a slave, Master. Very few bed slaves are set free by their Masters, but most of them are promised freedom at some point in their service. It’s a freedom that never comes.”

“And if I set you free…?”

“Don’t!” John replied, hastily getting out of bed. Opening the door he lingered there. “You must be hungry.”

“Why can’t I…?”

“I’m trying to help you… and you’re being cruel.”

“I’m not being cruel!” Sherlock cried out indignantly. “I’m asking what would happen if I set you free? Would you stay here? Go back to your sister? What would you do?”

“It doesn’t matter… it’s never going to happen!” John slammed the door when he left for the kitchen.

^.~

“I want to set John free.” Sherlock informed a visiting Mycroft. “You have his papers…”

“Do you really consider that wise?” Mycroft asked.

“He doesn’t believe I would.” Sherlock answered.

“And so you want to prove him wrong? That it hardly reason to free a very expensive slave.”

“Give me his papers so I can set him free.”

Mycroft sighed and opened his briefcase to take out an envelope. “I hoped to give you these when you were feeling better… so you had legal control over him. But it seems you want to waste that.”

“Pen.” Sherlock held out his hand for a pen to sign off on all the papers. “There… free.”

“He’s going to leave.”

“I really don’t care what he does…”

“Yes you do.”

“No… he’s free… Don’t buy me another one… I’ll just free them too. I don’t need a slave.”

“Sherlock…”

“Leave.”

For once Mycroft obeyed.

^.~

John ducked when the paper was thrown at him. Picking it up he flattened it out and stared dumbly at what he read there. 

“Get out!” Sherlock snarled from the bed. “And don’t come back!”

“But… this is…?”

“Are you that stupid? You can read unless you’ve been faking it… take it and go!”

“This is my release paper…”

“Signed, witnessed and dated! GET OUT!”

“But why?” John demanded.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you! I am the Master! OUT!”

So John obeyed.

^.~

Several hours later Sherlock wished he hadn’t been so rash. His body needed to use the toilet and he knew it would be a painful experience. Gingerly getting up he toddled towards the bathroom, noticing that someone lay on his sofa. “John? I thought I told you to leave.”

John sat up and blinked at him. “Your brother told me to stay… no matter what you say or do I was to stay.”

For a moment Sherlock was grateful to Mycroft’s interference. But the man on the sofa looked pitiful. 

John sat up properly and wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Where are you going? The restroom? Do you need help?”

Sherlock shook his head and continued on his journey. Once he sat down on the toilet his stoic demeanor broke. Try as he might he could not stifle the screams that escaped when his body forced itself to function despite the injuries. It felt like he was being torn apart anew and it burned. Crouched over with his face in his hands, he shivered. Warm hands lightly touched his face and he felt a gentle touch on his back, reaching down.

“Lift up…” John’s voice was soft against his side so he obeyed. Cool water soothed his pained flesh, cleaning him. Then he was patted dry followed by ointment being rubbed into his open wounds. Finally John moved away, using a towel to wipe off his fingers. “Do you need help back to bed?”

Sherlock used the wall to brace himself into standing again and toddled towards the door as John flushed the toilet and followed him out.

^.~

Sherlock stirred, checking himself. The pain was mostly gone and he was healing. The previous day he had been able to wipe himself with the wet wipes that had mysteriously appeared in the bathroom. 

John slept at his side… no longer naked. The man wore a shirt and pants to bed, unlike Sherlock’s preference of sleeping in the nude. The former bed slave looked sweet in sleep. Sadness filled Sherlock as he thought on what could have been… a willing lover and partner who wanted him, worshiped him… held him without hurting him.

“No one wants you…” Victor Trevor had said that, taunting Sherlock the last time they had been together. “Look at you… you little slut. Who would have you? You’re nothing! You’re just a tight hole…” Sherlock closed his eyes and tried to banish the memory.

“Are you hungry?” John yawned and rubbed his face with the back of his hand. “Want me to make you something?”

Sherlock shook his head and rolled over. 

“Sherlock… you have to eat.”

“Not hungry…” Sherlock replied.

“Well… I am.” John got up from the bed and pulled on his trousers before heading off to the kitchen, leaving Sherlock alone to his misery.

A week later John was in the kitchen, once again making something for Sherlock to eat. The man didn’t want to eat and seemed to be depressed. 

John attempted to make sweets to tempt Sherlock’s sweet tooth into eating something… ANYTHING. It was frustrating to spend so much time nursing the man back to health only to have him waste away from lack of food. Sherlock would eat if presented with something warm and sweet and so John was reduced to baking biscuits. Sometimes Mrs. Hudson would help, for her knowledge of desserts far exceeded John’s. 

John pulled the biscuit sheet out of the oven and set it on the stove to cool. At that moment the front door opened. Not expecting anyone, John turned to see who came in.

Victor Trevor stood in the living room as if he owned the place. Quirking a blond eyebrow he smirked at John. “You’re Sherlock’s bed slave.”

John bit his lips, unwilling to correct the man’s assumption. 

“Go fetch your Master.”

“I’m sorry… Sherlock cannot see you.”

Trevor stepped closer to John, invading his space. “Go fetch your Master.”

“No.” John replied, standing at his full height.

“If you were my slave I would beat you for your insolence.”

“I am not your slave.”

Trevor snorted a chuckle. “If you were my slave I wouldn’t allow you clothes… or even to leave my bed. I would chain you there.”

“You don’t know how to handle slaves.”

“I know when one talks back I can rip out their tongue.”

“I rather enjoy his tongue…” Sherlock stated from where he stood in the doorway of the bedroom dressed in his robe. 

Trevor turned his attention to Sherlock. “Holmes! I grow weary of quarreling…”

“Go away, Trevor.” Sherlock replied, leaning against the wall. “And it wasn’t a quarrel.”

John stepped up into Trevor’s space as the other man had done to him previously. “You should leave now.”

“I grow weary of your slave bossing me around.” Trevor spoke over John’s head to Sherlock.

Sherlock waved him off. “He can say as he pleases…”

“As he pleases?”

John reached down and grabbed Trevor’s genitals squeezing and twisting them until the other man squealed in pain. “Sherlock asked you to leave. In fact, from now on you will listen to Sherlock or else you’ll have to deal with me.”

Trevor held John’s wrist, trying to detach his hand from his person. “You nasty little…”

John leaned in with a vicious little twist. “You touch him again and I’ll rip these off and feed them to you. Do you understand? He isn’t your play thing. Now say goodbye and leave… never to return.”

“G-goodbye!” Trevor squawked. Suddenly he was free and stumbled to the door. “You’ll regret that!”

“Touch him again and I’ll make you wish you hadn’t.” John replied, pointing to the door. After Trevor escaped John locked the door and looked back at Sherlock. “I made chocolate chip.”

Sherlock’s attention was on the front door with a wistful look on his face.

With a sigh John took a warm biscuit and crossed the room to gently place the sweet against Sherlock’s lips. “Bite.”

Sherlock’s eyes flicked back to John as he obediently took a nibble and chewed in thoughtful silence.

John carefully used his thumb to whisk away a stray crumb before he stood on tiptoes to kiss the side of Sherlock’s mouth in an almost chaste way. Holding up the biscuit he raised his eyebrows in askance. 

Sherlock took another bite, his full attention now on John as he was hand fed the sweet.

“You aren’t eating enough…” John whispered as he offered more biscuit and kissed the mole on Sherlock’s throat. “You lost a stone.” The last bit of biscuit was pushed between Sherlock’s lips as he kissed the man’s chest, teasing his nipple.

Sherlock gasped and wrapped his arms around John’s head to keep him there. His heart was galloping in his chest and his knees felt a little weak. John’s body was warm and pressed up against his own. The man he desperately wanted was teasing his nipples and touching his thighs. “Will you fuck me?” Sherlock begged.

“No…” John stopped and pulled away to look up into Sherlock’s pale eyes. “You’re going to fuck me.”

Sherlock blinked a few times, unable to comprehend the difference in John’s request. “I don’t…”

“Have you ever been inside of anyone, Sherlock?”

Sherlock finally understood John’s meaning and shook his head. “No! Why would I…?”

“You are going to prepare me… and then enter me.”

“John… I can’t…”

“You can. And you will.”

“I don’t have a… a condom.”

“Do you think you’re going to get me pregnant? I am a man, I assure you…”

“I am… unclean. A filthy slut…”

“You’ve only ever been with me… and with him and he wore a condom. I’m clean and so are you.”

“John…”

“Sherlock… fuck me.”

Sherlock stared down at his former bed slave for a long moment before he mutely nodded. 

“I’m going to kiss you… you are going to kiss me back. That is what people do…” John reached up and wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s neck, pulling him down into a gentle kiss. “This is what free people do…” His tongue lapped at Sherlock’s plush lower lip, teasing the cupid’s bow until the lips parted and he explored the teeth and tongue that greeted him. John’s hands rested on Sherlock’s cheeks as he pulled back a bit. “Do you like it?”

Sherlock nodded, unable to speak. A tear escaped from his left eye and John used his thumb to wipe it away. 

John pulled the man back down into him as he resumed the kiss, pleased when he felt Sherlock’s arms wrap around his back. Kissing the other man’s chin he smiled. “We’re going to bed now. I’m mostly stretched… I just need some lubrication. Can you do that for me?”

Sherlock nodded again, blinking down in awe at John’s face. 

“You are beautiful, Sherlock Holmes…” John whispered, taking the other man’s hand and leading him towards the bedroom. Guiding Sherlock to the bed he set him down and handed him the lube. Quickly he undressed and stood before the man with his hands on his shoulders, legs slightly open. “Go ahead…”

Sherlock fingers found what they were looking for and found John to be as open as he promised. Two fingers became three and then four as he felt them slide easily into John. 

John moaned and rolled his head back, taking a small step closer to Sherlock as the other man practically finger fucked him. “I’ve never done this…”

Sherlock stopped and stared up at John. “What? But… you were a bed slave…”

John looked back down at Sherlock’s wide, pale eyes. “You were my first Master. I was unspoiled… fresh from training. I’ve only ever had a dildo inside of me.”

Sherlock averted his eyes, pulling his fingers from John. “We… don’t have to…”

“Sherlock… don’t you see? I’ve never had anyone inside of me and you… you’ve never been inside anyone. This is a first time for both of us.” John leaned down and pushed the dark curls from Sherlock’s forehead. “First time…”

“Oh…” Sherlock replied. “What do I do?”

“Undo your robe and get comfortable on the bed.”

Sherlock hastily obeyed, tossing away his robe before reclining against the headboard. 

John crawled across the bed and straddled Sherlock’s hips, gently rubbing them together for a few moments. “Like that?” 

Sherlock nodded, holding John’s hips. His eyes were on John’s cock, watching it slide against his own, uncovered. A hand lightly caressed the other man’s tip.

John moaned and moved a little quicker. “It’s alright… you can touch…” John reached down and took Sherlock in hand, moving himself over to find the place he was looking for. Finding it, he sat down with a soft sigh as it pushed in to the hilt. Sherlock wasn’t too thick, but he was long. Holding still a moment he tightened his internal muscles.

Sherlock cried out, his hands making abortive gestures as if he wanted to grab John’s hips. When John took his hands and placed them firmly on his waist with his own hands covering to keep them there Sherlock felt better. Blinking rapidly he tried to focus on John’s face.

“That’s it… you can hold me… touch me… I like your touch.” John began to move, rocking gently. Leaning forward for better leverage he began a rhythm. “I feel so full… is that how you feel when I’m inside of you?”

Sherlock nodded and bit his lower lip, hands awkwardly trying to hold John’s hips.

“Do you want to roll over?”

Quickly Sherlock shook his head and clutched John’s hips tighter.

John smiled and leaned down to kiss Sherlock’s chin and then lips as he moved his hips. “Don’t be nervous.”

“’M not!” Sherlock answered.

“You look nervous.”

“I’m trying not to finish too soon.”

John stopped his movements and chuckled softly, kissing the face below his. “Ok… time to change position.” Pulling off he moved over, still on his hands and knees. “Go ahead.”

Sherlock sat there for a long moment, his cock hard and covered in lube. “What?”

John got down on his shoulders, rump in the air. “You said you would fuck me.”

Sherlock opened his mouth a few times but nothing came out. Finally he got up on his knees. “I… but…”

“You are rather eloquent in the bedroom… have I ever told you that?”

“What?” Sherlock looked confused.

“Actually it’s eerily quiet… you don’t talk. Every other aspect of our lives you like to talk… but not while we’re fucking. Have you noticed that?”

Sherlock looked down at his hands. “He didn’t like it… to hear me when he… unless it was a cry of pain.”

“Oh.” John stared up at his would-be lover. “Well… we’ll have to work on that. Up you get.”

Sherlock reached out and touched one of John’s buttocks, using it to help guide himself behind John’s rump. It was easy to push back in and John made a soft moaning sound as he pushed into tight heat. His body seemed to like that movement and he duplicated it again and again, holding John’s hips to help pull himself in. Below him John was letting out delightful moans of encouragement. Very quickly Sherlock’s entire world collapsed down into the sensations he experienced pushing into John’s warm, inviting body. At some point he realized he needed to help John along and he wrapped an arm around to John’s front, fumbling with John’s cock. Everything was about John. John, John…

“Oh Gods… Sherlock…” John moaned, using a hand to reach down and help Sherlock wank him off. “Harder, please… You can… harder!”

Sherlock only caught a word or two of John’s commands. Already his mind was beginning to slip away as his bullocks pulled tight up against his body. His hips thrust hard and messily, feeling himself empty pulse after pulse into John. Beneath him John was moaning and trying to move their hands more. Sherlock let him, feeling the wetness escape his fist and not caring. Bonelessly he panted for air and held against John, unwilling to pull away. But finally he had to because he was beginning to soften. For a moment he stared down at his damp cock, touching it with the hand John climaxed in. “It’s so… wet.”

John flopped onto his side. “Yeah… wet and… wonderful. Come here…” Holding out an arm he waited for Sherlock to cuddle up against him.

“We’re all sticky…” Sherlock protested.

John grinned impishly and kissed his former Master. “That’s sex… real sex. Mind blowing, toe curling… I forgot what it was like.”

Sherlock went quiet, holding John close. “But… you’ve been fucking me…”

John blinked a few times. “It’s… not the same.”

“You always finished inside of me… except the first couple of times.”

“It’s… about equals… sharing…”

Sherlock pulled away a bit. “I’m not your equal?”

“You were my Master. I obeyed your command.”

Sherlock looked horrified.

“Sherlock… those other times don’t count… THIS is our first time… as equals. Do you understand? I did this because I wanted to… not because you commanded me.”

“If you hated it so much you could have SAID something!” Sherlock tried to pull away from John’s embrace. “I understand being UNWANTED!”

“Sherlock… no… That’s not what I meant!” John desperately tried to hold the other man again. “Stop it!”

“Was this just a pity fuck? Poor little Sherly… no one wants him… he’s too much of a FREAK!”

“Sherlock I’m NOT Trevor!” John practically shouted.

“Trevor at least WANTED me! You’ve NEVER wanted me!”

There was a loud smack and Sherlock was left holding his cheek, John’s handprint turning it red. “Snap out of it! Will you get ahold of yourself!?” John shouted. “Stop acting like I’m Trevor! I’m NOT! He NEVER wanted you as a lover. He was USING you!” Riled up, John began to pant. Shaking his head he tried to get ahold of his own emotions. “Look… I’m sorry I slapped you… but you were getting hysterical. I. Am. Not. Trevor. I am John Watson, former bed slave. Will you just LISTEN to me before going hysterical and running off to hurt yourself again before getting all the facts like you did last time?”

Mutely Sherlock nodded.

“Good. I did not HATE what you had me do as a slave. I climaxed… YOU climaxed. We BOTH climaxed. BUT I was your property. I could only do as you asked. I was not allowed to do everything I would do as a freeman no matter how much you may have wished it so. If I didn’t feel like it I couldn’t deny you. If I wanted to try a different position I couldn’t suggest it. I couldn’t push you up against a wall and seduce you. No. Our encounters were limited to what you wanted, when you wanted it. I couldn’t even presume to kiss your lips or climax inside of you without permission even if I was commanded to play at being a freeman. There are some things I could not do. You will notice that before this encounter I kissed you without permission.”

Sherlock licked his lips as if to taste John there.

“I’m no longer yours. You gave me my freedom. I am my own man now.”

“You still pity me.”

“Sherlock… when I got here you were a junkie. You sold your arse for some drug that kept you oblivious to LIFE. That’s the first thing I saw… you were… DEAD inside. Over these past few months I’ve seen you come to life. You started eating and stopped taking the drugs… you turned down your supplier. You told me you wanted to be clean for me. And then you asked me to fuck you… to find out how different it could be. And then you got jealous when your brother touched me… and tried to self-destruct because you thought I betrayed you. When I explained you again got rid of your supplier. And then you set me free. You’ve changed so much since I met you. You aren’t the same man. Yes… I pitied the junkie. But you’re not a junkie right now. Aside from your relapse you’ve been doing really well handling your life instead of hiding inside some vial of white powder. I’m… proud of you.”

Sherlock blinked a few times, sitting up to get a better look at John. “Proud of me?”

“Look at you! Look at what you’ve accomplished since I stepped into your flat several months ago.”

“I’ve done nothing to be proud of… if anything it just shows how pathetic I really am…”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Sherlock’s mouth dropped open. “Boyfriend?”

“Yes… male person who is dating you… boyfriend.”

“But… what…?”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” John smirked and made himself cozy on the bed.

“Last week you told me you didn’t want to hear words of love from me.”

“Last week I was still a bed slave.”

“That’s… all?”

“Last week it would have been your legal right to hand my papers over to Trevor so he could chain me to his bed and have me spend all my time… naked… and tongue-less.”

“I never would have done such a thing! I couldn’t even handle the thought of you fucking my brother!”

Sherlock had a point there, John conceded. “You still owned me and could do as you wished with me.”

“It just never occurred to me that I could set you free! Or that you even wanted to be set free. It’s not like I’ve ever owned a slave before my brother dragged you into my life. All the slaves my parents owned didn’t seem to care one way or the other… of course all of them had been born into it. You, on the other hand were born a freeman and until your midlife had always BEEN a freeman.”

“Would you like a boyfriend?” John raised an eyebrow at his bed companion.

“Will you stay?” Sherlock whispered. 

“If that is what you want.” John’s heart broke just a bit from the other man’s words.

“Yes…” 

“Then I will… for as long as you’ll have me.”

^.~

“You are a freeman. You CAN leave.” Mycroft informed John several days later when he made his visit.

John shook his head and glanced towards the kitchen where Sherlock was busy being anti-social. “I won’t do that.”

“Why not? You have your papers. Nothing stops you from walking out that door and continuing your life like this never happened.”

As Mycroft spoke John shook his head. “No… I failed at being a fiancé and a soldier… I failed as a bed slave. I won’t fail as a boyfriend. He needs me.”

“I can buy him another slave…”

John shook his head again. “No… he needs me. He needs an equal who will treat him with respect and affection. I will leave… but only when he tells me he’s done. Until then he has me.”

Sherlock chose that moment to enter the room and wrap his arms around John’s waist, nuzzling against the side of his neck in a display of ownership, challenging his brother with a look. “Leave now, Mycroft. We don’t need anything from you.”

“I find that a little difficult to believe since I pay the rent and bring you groceries.”

Sherlock nipped at John’s jaw before staring defiantly at his elder brother. His hands tightened on John’s waist as if at any moment he could pull the shorter man away.

“Very well… pretend you are completely independent of me. I know better.” Mycroft headed towards the door. “Take care of my brother, John Watson. I leave his happiness in your capable hands.”

“Don’t let Victor Trevor anywhere near us.” John replied. “He’s been sniffing around here and I don’t like it.”

Mycroft nodded in agreement. “As you wish… I will have another discussion with him. Farewell.”

But John wasn’t paying attention. Already he was being consumed and pushed back towards a bedroom door so his boyfriend could reclaim him. In a few minutes he found himself naked and sprawled on the bed with Sherlock sucking down his cock. 

“Mine…” The former junkie whispered against his tip, lipping at the sensitive skin.

“Yours…” John agreed as his first wave of pleasure rolled through him.

They didn’t leave the bedroom for the rest of the day.

^.~

Mycroft Holmes lightly patted the box. It was decorated with a bright red bow. “I bring you a peace offering.”

“I can see that…” Sherlock replied as he stared at the box one eyebrow raised.

“Can you deduce what is inside?” 

“Of course I can.” Sherlock looked at John. “Open it.”

“What? Why me?” John demanded.

“Because it affects you as much as it affects me. You are my boyfriend, after all…”

John rolled his eyes and approached the present. “Fine…” Clawing at the bow he tossed it away and lifted the lid. For a moment it didn’t register what he was staring at. It was a round, cream colored object with meandering cracks. All at once it dawned on him and he lifted out the object, revealing a human skull. The mandible was left in the box and he pulled it out to put it in position. “It’s… a skull…”

“Very good, John… your medical training wasn’t completely wasted…” Sherlock snorted in amusement.

“Shut up… Mycroft, whose skull am I holding? Is it someone we know?”

“Yes, of course. Sherlock knew him rather… intimately.”

Nervously John set the skull down on the coffee table, the mandible slipping out of position. “It’s freshly cleaned.”

“Mm… yes… I thought you would appreciate a good cleaning… no point in fouling up the flat with the scent of decay…” 

John gave Sherlock a glance but got no help from him. “Is this…?”

“I told him that if he ever bothered my brother again I would destroy him. I don’t make idle threats. I demanded retribution from his family and they handed him over… He was mine to do with as I pleased and now I gift him to you. I know you said you would not take another slave from me, Brother Dear… but please reconsider for this one. He requires very little maintenance… aside from a little dusting now and then.”

Sherlock sat with his fingers tented against his lips as his brother spoke. “So… he’s gone then?”

“Indeed. If you would like the rest of his bones…”

“No… this is enough.” Sherlock indicated the skull and mandible.

“I also preserved his organs… I know how much you like to experiment on those…” Mycroft offered.

“Tempting, but no…”

“Sherlock… you’re not going to keep Victor Trevor’s skull in our flat, are you?” John demanded.

Sherlock stared up at John for a long moment. 

John could see the pain and hurt in Sherlock’s eyes. Finally he shook his head and looked away. “Where shall we put him?”

“On the mantel… next to the Persian slipper.”

John picked up the skull and mandible to carry it over to the mantel, setting it next to the Persian slipper. 

“Oh! And these, John.” Mycroft held out papers of ownership naming Sherlock the new owner of the slave Victor Trevor. 

John placed the papers in the skull’s jaw and stepped back to stare at his work.

“Perfect.” Mycroft grinned.

Later that evening when Mycroft was gone Sherlock stood before the mantel, staring at the skull as if trying to find the features of the man who had abused him in the bones. Temporal… frontal… occipital… parietal… zygomatic… maxilla… 

John wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and gently swayed with him in a silent dance. “You’re safe. He can never come back and hurt you.”

Sherlock nodded and held John’s hands tighter. “I should be happy… and yet a part of me is horrified. I never imagined I’d be… that his skull would be in my possession. I know it’s his skull… his teeth… but… I didn’t mean for him to die and yet I’m relieved.”

“Mycroft did what neither one of us could do. I don’t know if I should be flattered or terrified. If I do something wrong then my skull will end up on your mantel too.”

“Don’t be silly… I would never let that happen.”

“You loved him once…”

“But John… he never loved me.” Sherlock turned in John’s embrace and rested his head on the other man’s shoulder, continuing their slow dance. “You love me. And so for that reason your skull will never sit my mantel.”

John soothed Sherlock’s back. “It’s still… terrifying that your brother has that sort of power over another living being.”

“Such is our world…” Sherlock sighed and nuzzled under John’s chin. “Take me to bed?”

John pushed Sherlock’s curls back from his forehead to stare into the pale blue eyes. “Distraction will get you nowhere.”

Sherlock grinned and leaned in to kiss John’s lips. “I won’t let him touch you, John… you are mine. Even if you leave me I would still never allow him to touch…”

“You need me. Why would I leave you?” John asked quietly as he tried to ignore Sherlock’s hands attempting to undress him.

“I don’t know… but you might. And I’m just saying… that even if you did I would never allow Mycroft to hurt you.”

“Thank you. There’s that, I suppose… Sherlock promise of protection…”

“He would never touch you… look at all you’ve done for me. He wouldn’t dare!” Sherlock pushed John back towards the sofa. 

“What? Right here? We’ve only ever done it in bed… and up against the wall.” 

Sherlock managed to push John onto his back on the couch and straddled him. “You’ve exorcised all my demons… why not this one?”

John nodded. It seemed fair. “Get up, Love… take the position.”

Sherlock stood up and began to undress, leaving on his shirt on. When John moved out of the way he took his old position, rump in the air, trembling.

John sat down behind Sherlock and lightly kissed his left buttock. “You are beautiful… do you know that? I could look at you all day and never grow tired. Your skin is so soft… your bud so pink.” John teased the puckered entrance with his fingertip. 

“Please don’t give odes to my arse… it’s embarrassing.”

“Now there’s an idea! An ode to my lover’s bum!” John giggled and kissed the right buttock. “Pale orbs of silky flesh… how I long to…”

“Stop that!” Sherlock laughed, burying his face in the cushion. “Just… get this over with.”

“Never! I will not rush this. You will have to suffer my worshipping you.”

“Fine… proceed.”

“How I long to dampen your… crack…”

“You’re getting nasty!” Sherlock protested.

John teased the pucker with the tip of his tongue. Blowing warm air against the sensitive skin he continued. “Your bullocks hang like precious fruit…”

“John Watson I swear I will get up right now and leave if you don’t stop teasing me!”

“I’m not teasing you.” Sucking on his finger he used it to push into Sherlock’s body. 

“Fuck…” Sherlock whispered, pushing back against John’s intrusion. 

John used his other hand to cup Sherlock’s balls. “Like precious fruit that only I have the privilege to taste… thy sweet nectar.”

“I thought you were giving an ode to my butt!”

“It’s connected… by this part…” John gently caressed Sherlock’s taint.

Sherlock whimpered and shook his head. “For the love of… just get on with it. I’m one second away from getting up… to hell with my demons!”

“Alright… alright…” John kissed the left cheek again before reaching out to pick up a bottle of lube. He wasn’t entirely sure why it was there or where it came from, but it seemed handy. Using a liberal amount he worked Sherlock open slowly.

“Can’t you go any faster?”

“No. That defeats the purpose of doing this. I want you to feel good… to feel loved.” It was easy to open Sherlock due to activities a few hours earlier. John was beginning to enjoy the sounds his boyfriend made. It took a lot of coaxing to encourage Sherlock to make any noise. “Go ahead, Love… moan for me.”

A soft moan, more like a breathy catch of the throat answered his request. It was followed by a soft groan.

“That’s it, Love…” John found the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Sherlock made a sound between crying out and drowning. 

“Beautiful…” John pulled his fingers out and lined himself up. His hands rested on the other man’s hips, sliding his palms against the silky skin. “You are amazing…”

Sherlock pushed back with a grunt and raised his head to look back over his shoulder at John moving against him.

John smiled and ran his hands up Sherlock’s back and sides, making sure to keep skin contact. “Like that?”

A sound of affirmation, no more than a soft grunt and Sherlock was up on his hands and knees, pushing back against John.

John’s hand slipped around the other man’s waist, fisting the hard, swaying cock. “That’s it… you’re doing so well… So good, Sherlock…” His hand quickened, wanting to get Sherlock off first. When the other man started bucking back against him he grinned and felt warm wetness slip through his fingers. His own orgasm quickly followed and for the final pulse he pulled out, sending his own wetness to Sherlock’s rump. 

“You… pulled out?” Sherlock managed between gasps.

“Yes… to show you… something…”

“What?” 

“He never touched you… he never left anything within you or on you… it was like he was never there.” John managed while fighting to gain back his breath.

“Yes? So?”

“Sherlock…” John placed his soiled hand on Sherlock’s arse, smearing both of their ejaculate together. “I’m here… I’m on you… in you…” His fingers dipped into the other man’s open orifice. “This is me… There’s no barrier between us… no gloves… no condom… we are… sticky.”

Sherlock blinked at John over his shoulder.

John reached out and dabbed a bit of mess on the back of Sherlock’s hand. “We’re covered in… us.”

Shaking his head Sherlock made to get up. “You’re being weird.” 

John allowed the other man to get up. “Shower?”

“Well… since you got me all sticky I suppose I have to now.” Sherlock grinned. “Join me?”

“In a moment… get the water started.” John waited for Sherlock to leave before he went to the mantel and stood before his formal rival’s skull. Lightly he smeared some of the mess against the skull’s teeth. “Taste that? You could have had it all for yourself. You missed out big time… and you had no fucking clue what you had or how to treat him!” 

The skull seemed to be making a whirring noise which caught John’s attention. Giving it a good look he found a tiny mechanical device lodged in the nasal cavity. 

“Is… is that a…? Mycroft…?” With a roll of his eyes and a sigh he composed himself. Refocusing his attention on the tiny video camera he shook a finger at it. “I was talking to Trevor!” Another roll of his eyes and he looked away. “You can see me… but can you even hear me?”

The camera made another small whirring noise and a tiny peep. 

“Fuck… and you probably saw what we just did.”

Two tiny peeps replied. 

With his clean hand John wiped his face. “I’m not going to lie to Sherlock about this.”

At that moment Sherlock re-entered the room, now completely naked. “John? Who are you talking to?”

“It’s nothing…” John headed towards the bathroom, following the sound of running water.

Sherlock watched him go and then focused on the skull. Crossing the room he stood before it and frowned. “You will not harm him, Mycroft!”

Two tiny peeps replied.

“I mean it! Not one hair on his head even if he begs you for a haircut. He is MINE!” 

The peeps answered.

“Good. I’m glad we’re in agreement.” Focusing on a part of the skull he touched where there was something wet. For a moment he stared at his fingers, pondering what the wet substance could be. Finally it dawned on him and he smiled to himself. “Oh John… you cheeky devil…” With a smirk at the camera he raised his fingers in salute. “Ta! My lover awaits me.” With a swing of his hips he pranced away to the bathroom.

The camera focused and refocused, whirring softly in the now empty room. 

\--Fin

**Author's Note:**

> In this universe slavery is accepted. I relied mostly on the Roman version of slavery where it is mostly financial and you can earn your freedom (you return to freeman status with no stigma)... and somewhat voluntary. John had nothing else to live for except to take his sister's place. 
> 
> In the universe slaves can be: bred, killed or abused by their Masters. There are different kids of slaves: Domestic (cooking & cleaning), Bed slaves (used for pleasure and breeding). They can be born into slavery, enter into it to forgive a debt or as a means of punishment. Masters are not obligated to care for their slaves and many are abused to the point of death. Slaves cannot kill their Masters or sire children on their Mistresses. 
> 
> Basically I just made up rules as the plot dictated.


End file.
